Dreams, Lost and Found
by Fabius Maximus
Summary: Baloo and Becky.  How much trouble can a single theft cause?  All characters are copyright of the Disney Corp.


            "Y'know Beckers,"  Baloo said tiredly as they trudged up towards her apartment.  Kit and Molly were still at Higher for Hire, but Rebecca had decided to get some records to make an early start of it tomorrow, "There's no reason why this couldn't have waited until the sun comes up."

            "Ha!"  Rebecca retorted.  "If I know you, by the time you're up tomorrow, the sun will be going down!"  Baloo's retort was lost as Becky opened the front door to the apartment, turned on the lights, then stopped with a gasp.

            The place had been trashed.  Tables and chairs were overturned, cabinets and bookshelves ransacked, and furniture had been disarrayed.  Even the lights had been damaged.  Becky looked around, stunned, as did Baloo.  

            "Oh my God!"  Rebecca cried out, and went to rush into the ruined apartment.  Baloo caught her with one hand and held her back.

            "Now, Bosslady.  Lets call the cops and get them over here before we go rushin' into this place."  The bear left his boss at the door, and gingerly stepped into the room, where the phone had miraculously remained untouched and on the hook.  He picked it up, and quickly called the police.  After getting the police, the large gray bear put down the phone and went back to the door.  Rebecca was still standing at the door, hands twisting her purse strap, as she looked around the destroyed room.

            "I cannot believe they did this!"  Becky yelled, "How dare they... and why did they destroy my home!"  Baloo put a hand on her shoulder, looking closely at her. The petite bearess was actually trembling, angry and shocked by the violation. 

            "Now, Beckers,"  Baloo said, "You know that a lot of folks don't trust the banks... they probably were hoping to find a money stash somewhere in the place."  With a cheery ring, the elevator opened, with two police officers in it.  The first, a thin Cheetah, walked up to the two, while his partner scanned the lobby.

            "I'm officer Wilkins.  Are you the gentleman who called this in?"  He asked Baloo.  

            "Got that right."  Baloo answered.

            "Do you own this apartment?"

            "I do,"  Rebecca said.  "He's my employee and we were coming back to get some records for the company."  The officer looked at her a moment, then nodded.

            "Very well.  If you could do us the favor of staying out here.  It's unlikely that anyone is still there, but it pays to be certain.  Did you touch anything, Mr.?"

            "Just Baloo. Nope, I only used the phone."

            "I see.  Well, then we'll see about getting some fingerprints later.  I'm afraid that You might have to make arrangements to sleep somewhere else tonight, Ma'am...  We won't be finished for several hours."  Rebecca nodded, shakily.

            It only took the officers a few minutes to discover that there was nobody left in the house, and that the entire apartment was in the same condition as the front rooms.  Rebecca and Baloo waited, while other officers, some carrying camera's and dusting equipment, entered the apartment.  Finally, Wilkins came back out.

            "The fellow, whoever he was, entered from the roof, then cut a hole in one of the windows facing the waterfall, where nobody could see, and the sound of the falls masked his entrance."  The officer shrugged.  "Normally, these things happen because someone left a door open, but this fellow was pretty good.  Is there anything in here that might attract such attention, Ms. Cunningham?"  Rebecca shook her head.

            "I keep some records here, but nothing that would be worth anything.  All the money is either in the bank or down at Higher For Hire, in the safe."  she paused, "Can I go inside?"

            "Not yet."  The police officer answered. "This fellow is just good enough that we'd like to get a complete dusting of the property.  I'll call you tomorrow, and we can have a car take you to a hotel."  Becky shook her head. 

            "No, I'll just head back to Higher for Hire."  The bearess turned around and walked back out the door, Baloo looked after her, before the officer tapped him on the arm.

            "Mr. Baloo."  Baloo turned and looked own on the cheetah.  "I'd go with her.  A robbery like this,"  he gestured at the damaged furnishings, the spilled items on the rug., "is almost as traumatizing as a personal mugging."  The bear nodded, jerkily, then went after Rebecca.  He needed no convincing there.

            It wasn't until the car had almost reached Hire for Higher that Rebecca spoke again.

            "When the police get them I'm going to make them wish they were never born!  That is my and Molly's house they trashed."  Then, without missing a beat, she turned to Baloo, "Oh Baloo... How am I going to explain this to Molly?  It took her long enough to get used to living in Cape Suzzette... and now this!"  Baloo hadn't thought of that either.

            "Well, Beckers,"  He started, then realized how upset Rebecca was when she didn't even lodge a _pro forma_ protest against the nickname. "Maybe we should just concentrate on getting the place back in shape tomorrow. Me 'an Kit can help, and Wildcat can fix anything that's broken."  Becky looked down, evidently thinking.

            "Yes."  She said, "Yes, we don't have any shipments tomorrow, and I was just going to get an early start on the inventory."  She nodded, "And Molly and Wildcat get along famously.  But,"  She continued, "I want Molly and Wildcat to stay at Higher for Hire, at least until we've got the majority of the mess cleaned up."

            "Good Idea, Bosslady."  Baloo said, as the car turned into the street fronting Higher for Hire.

            Molly needed no convincing to stay at Higher For Hire-- hammocks were an adventure for her.  As night drew on, Rebecca was the only one still awake.  The creaks and groans of the old structure, normally almost unnoticeable, now intruded with every new sound.  She bolted upright, out of the overstuff chair where she had been snoozing, as she heard a car drive off down the street.

            "Your getting paranoid, Rebecca."  She muttered to herself, as she went over and check on Molly, who was sleeping like a baby.  Coming back, she tried to find herself a comfortable position, "Thank God that Kit and Molly weren't there."  She murmured, before dropping off to an uneasy sleep.   

            The next morning,  the entire crew, minus Molly and Wildcat, trooped back up to the apartment.  The police had called, letting Rebecca know that she could go back up, and that all evidence had been collected.  Kit hadn't seen the apartment, and as he got up to the door, he sucked in his breath at the sight.

            "oh... wow.  Papa Bear...  Where do we start?"  Becky took charge.

            "We start by picking up all the silverware and plates.  Baloo, I'll get a trashcan, and we'll just dump in any broken items." She looked around.  "Once we have a clear space out here, we can start on the rest of the house."

            "You got it, Bosslady,"  Baloo said with exaggerated cheer, "We'll have everything clean up in a jiffy."  The older bear was optimistic.  The further they got into the house, the more destruction became apparent.  Both Rebecca's and Molly's bed's had had the mattresses  and pillows slashed, most of Molly's dolls had been pulled apart, the stuffing strewn over the floor by the handful, and every drawer had been pulled out and dumped onto the floor.  Kit sat to work, trying to fix the dolls, and pricking himself on the finger more then he hit the cloth.

            By lunch, they had gotten finished with the outer room, and enough of the other rooms had been cleared that Rebecca sat to organizing everything by herself.  Baloo and Kit waited for the glass  to replace the damaged window at the rear of the main room.  With Kit on a stepladder guiding him in, Baloo moved the frame.  With no glass between them and the waterfall, the noise was deafening.

            "Almost... Up a little, Papa Bear...O.K.... Got it!"  Kit proclaimed in satisfaction, his brow damp with sweat and mist.  Baloo clamped it in place, then walked back to a chair, sitting down in satisfaction (and more then a little out of breath).  "It almost looks like new, Baloo."  Kit said, looking around the living room. 

            "Yeah... except me'an Rebecca are going to be shopping.  You mark my words Little Britches... I'm going to be going with her to every sale this side of-"  Baloo stopped, at the sound of a strangled cry from the rear of the apartment, from Rebecca's room.  The large bear got up, walking down the hallway, Kit in tow.  When he came to her room, Baloo looked in, and stopped short in shock.  The room had almost been completely repaired, now it was a shambles again, with Rebecca opening everything in sight, rooting through it, throwing items to the wind.

            "It can't be gone.... It wasn't worth anything to anyone else!"  She snarled/wept, looking through.  She turned at Baloo's entrance.  "Baloo!! Did you see a brown photo album?"  

            "No, Bosslady,"  Baloo said, scratching his head.  "I didn't.  Remember, Kit and I were looking for anything like books or records."  Becky had turned back and was now halfway under the bed, feeling her way.  Finally she came back out from under the bed, and sat on its edge.  Then, to Baloo's and Kit's shock, she put her face in her hands and began to cry.  Kit looked back and forth.

            "I'll call Wildcat to see how he's doing, Papa Bear,"  the cub said, before leaving the two of them alone.  Baloo approached, uncertain of what to do.  Rebecca was more prone to yelling then crying, which made handling this all the harder.

            "Ah... Beckers?"  He asked,  "What's wrong.  What got stolen?" He sat down besides her and waited.  Finally, the bearess turned a tear-streaked face up to him.

            "My-my and David's album."  She said, taking in a shuddering breath.

            "David?"  

            "My husband."  She said,  "It wasn't just photo's, Baloo.  It was letters, all the letters we had written to each other before we got married... photo's of our dates, the place we went to get engaged... It's all gone.  I was saving it for Molly, so she could know about her father, and, and it's all gone."  Rebecca hid her face in her hands, and started crying again.  "They had no right to take it.  It didn't mean anything to them why did they want it, why couldn't they have just taken the money?" she finished, almost babbling.  Baloo put his arm around her.

            "Rebecca."  He said, "Why don't you go down to Higher For Hire, and me an Kit'll finish up here.  I'll hit the cops and see if they've found it, and let know to look out for it."  he paused.  "Maybe you an Molly should stay at Higher For Hire for the next couple of days... until you feel better."  She looked up at him, face tear-streaked.  

            "Your right."  She said, drawing a shuddering breath. "I'll be no good to anyone here, and I'll need to be at my best to explain this to Molly.  I'll pack."  She said, getting up and walking over to the clothes strewn about the dresser.  Baloo turned to leave.  "Baloo?"

            "Yes, Bosslady?"

"Thank you."

            Rebecca left, Baloo staying with her until the cab arrived.  The gray bear turned around and returned to the apartment, letting kit continue with the clean up, while he called the police.

            "Little Britches,"  Baloo said, "I'm gonna go down town and see if I can light a fire under those flatfoots.  You head back to Higher For Hire before it gets dark, ok?"

            "Sure Baloo."  Kit paused, "What was in the album?  I mean, I've never seen Ms. Cunningham so upset."  Baloo paused,

            "A lot of stuff about her life before she came here, Kit.  I... I don't think that I should be the one to say any more about it, kay?"

            "OK."  Kit said, turning and boxing another series of broken dishes.

            The fifth precinct house was old, one of the older buildings in Cape Suzzette.  It had seen riots, fires, and typhoons, and now, Baloo was adding his anger to the mix.

            "Whatdya mean 'Give it up.'?"   Baloo demanded.  The detective he was talking to, a tired looking fox, ran his hand back through his thinning black hair.  He sighed.

            "Mr. Bear, the item you have described has no physical value, right?"  Baloo nodded.  "Then it is probably in a dump somewhere and if you want to find it, that is where you should go."

            "They'd throw it away!?"  Baloo demanded.

            "Why not?  It can't get them anything except trouble.  Better to get rid of it.  Now I can't help you, because the thief left no fingerprints, and it is unlikely that we will close this case anytime soon.  If you really want to pursue this, I can give some private detectives that I know of..."  The Fox tore a piece of paper off a note pad, and wrote down several addresses and names on it.  "There.  Even so, I wouldn't hold out much hope."

            "Well if you would do your job," Baloo retorted, as the fox looked up, irritation on his face.

            "We do 'do our job.', Mr. Bear.  However, the city has grown, and nobody has yet thought to increase the size of the police.  I might add that there are dozens of cases like this every week, each one just as traumatic to the victims as this one was.  We do our best; believe me, we know that sometimes it's not enough.  Good day."  With that, the fuming bear found himself out on the street, looking at the addresses on the paper.

            "'Do our best....'  I'll bet."  The bear muttered, before heading off to find a phone.

            Back at Higher For Hire, Rebecca moped around the office, managing to finish work, even though her heart wasn't in it at all.  The door opened, admitting Kit, who walked in, then tip toed the rest of the way, seeing that Molly had fallen asleep in Baloo's shabby, yet comfortable armchair.

            "Ms. Cunningham?"  Kit asked, "do you have anything else for me to do?  I cleaned up the rest of the apartment."

            "Thanks Kit."  Rebecca replied.  "You didn't..."

            "No, Ms. Cunningham."  Kit said, "And I looked under everything, even outside the apartment, in case they lost it while they were leaving."  Becky gave a halfsmile to Kit.  "Ah, Ms. Cunningham?"

            "Yes, Kit?"  

            "What was in it... I mean, just in case they get rid of the cover, is there anything in it that really stands out?"  Kit waited, afraid that he had said something wrong, as the silence stretched out.

            "Pictures...."  Rebecca said, softly. "Letters, Pictures, a few badly done poems... and the worlds most expensive pressed flower."

            "Huh?"  Kit said, intelligently.  Rebecca laughed softly.  

            "You know how you can take a flower and preserve it by pressing it in a book?"

            "Yes."  Kit said, still not comprehending.  Becky continued.

            "Well, on the front leaf, there's a flower like that.  It's probably the most expensive thing in the book."

            "It must be rare."  Kit said.

            "Not at all, Kit.  It's just a regular wildflower."  Rebecca paused, "You see, when David and I were thirteen, there was a Spring picnic.  Everyone was in their best... Mom and Dad bought me a white dress... probably the most expensive piece of clothing I've ever owned.  David's parents had him in a suit, just as expensive."  She looked down at her hands.  "Well, we were walking behind the church, just before the photograph was to be taken, and I saw this beautiful flower on the embankment behind the building."  She laughed.  "David decided to be gallant and get it, but we didn't realize that they had just watered that morning, and the slope was more mud the anything else.  Halfway up there, he sank up to his shins, and when I went up to rescue him, all I did was pull us both back down, tumbling the whole way.  There wasn't a single spot on either of us that wasn't covered in mud or thistles... the clothes were absolutely ruined!"

            "Were your parents upset?"  Kit asked.  This was a side of Ms. Cunningham he had never seen before!

            "Upset doesn't begin to cover it, Kit.  Mother burst into tears, and Father was too furious to speak for the next hour.  I was grounded for the next month.  I think that David got the same treatment, plus a pretty bad whipping... at least he didn't sit down that much at school for the next couple of days."  Rebecca blushed, remembering the long ago scolding.  "Anyway, I was devastated, so the next day at school, I started crying when some of the other students teased me about it, even though they weren't being mean, just having some fun.  I was sitting alone at lunch, when David showed up.  He didn't say anything, just sat down by me, and gave me a wrapped package.  In it, was the flower, pressed between two plates of glass."  Rebecca fell silent.  Kit looked up, and realized that she was seeing the long ago day, walking in a place where only she and her husband had been.  The petite bearess shook her head, and turned to Kit.  "Anyway, that's the story of the flower... pretty ridiculous isn't it."

            "No."  Kit quietly said, "Not at all, Ms. Cunningham."  Rebecca smiled at him, then stood up.

            "And with that, Mr. Cloudkicker, how about we roust Molly and Wildcat and find a place to have lunch.  It's no good just moping about here... It just makes things worse."  Kit nodded, then got up and walked out, calling for Wildcat.

            Baloo walked into the office, looking at the irritable sounding fox on the phone.

            "I know you owe them money, Mr. Ster, but there's nothing my boss can do... No, we don't get the Mob off peoples back.  Yes I can suggest someone to help you... do you know any undertakers?  Well that's all the help your going to get from here!"  She finished, slamming down the phone.  Baloo came up to the desk.

            "Pardon me, ah."

            "Mabell, but call me Maven... everyone does."  She said, throwing a file into the waste basket.  "Well, we won't be dealing with Mr. Shy Ster any more... not unless he comes up with the money to pay off the mob!"

            "That's real nice,"  Baloo said, "But can I talk to your boss?"  Mabell looked up at him, then nodded, "Why not?  It's not as if he's busy."

            "I heard that, Maven."  A deep voice boomed out.  "I'll have you know I'm working hard back here."

            "At his snoring, maybe."  With a wave, she ushered Baloo back into the office.  It was a dingy corner office, with an old fan arthritically trying to move the thick air, make thicker still by the occupants cigar.  Behind a desk that had seen better days, or perhaps decades, piled high with old newspapers, was a badger looking nearly as old, much of his hair thinning, revealing a shiny pate.

            "So, Ah, what's your problem?"  He asked, leaning back in his protesting swivel chair.  Baloo wisely did  not trust his bulk to the chair at the other side of the desk, and remained standing.

            "Well, I'm looking for some stolen merchandise?"

            "I'm not a fence."

            "I know,"  Baloo said, "The cops told me you might be able to help me.  It was stolen from my bosses house."  He launched into the story.  By the time he had finished, the Badger was looking at him speculatively.

            "The cops are probably right.  Something like that would only be trouble to keep.  If I was a crook, I'd trash or burn it."  Baloo pulled out the money he had taken from his stash at Higher For Hire earlier that morning.

            "Here's 200 bucks to try... I can scrape up some more if you need it." The Badger paused, then pushed the money back.

            "Well, you know, I lost my wife about two years ago... I'll give you a hand on this, gratis, unless we find it.  No garuntee's you understand?"  Baloo nodded.  The Badger stuck out his hand.  "Good!  Stan McGrady at your service."  He grinned, "Besides, this is more like my old job with the police then staring in windows to see if husbands are cheating on their wives."  He stood up and got a battered jacket, also pulling down a shoulder holster and checking the revolver before putting it on.  "Well Mr. Bear.... are you ready to go hunting?"

            "Where do we go first?"  Baloo asked,

            "The apartment, always check for tracks at the scene of the crime.  We've wasted enough time here.  Let's go."

            END PART ONE.


End file.
